


sweet and sour

by dormant_bender



Series: two's company, three's a crowd. [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, One Shot, Possessive Behavior, Post-Game(s), Power Dynamics, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormant_bender/pseuds/dormant_bender
Summary: It's a big day for Captain Rafael, but the viewing party of two doesn't go as planned when Marc and Neymar are constantly at odds.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I literally just wrote this and edited it a bit, and it's 12AM so I probs did a terrible job.
> 
> I'll come back and edit tomorrow xx
> 
> (( Also, it's finals week and here I am writing shameless smut. Whoops. ))

in the center of the hotel room rests a couch with two distinct forms poised upon the cushion; normally the gap between them would have been filled with one grinning brazilian in particular, but the brunet was currently on the television screen wearing the captain's armband, much to their shared pleasure.

the german had been the one to suggest it, mainly because rafinha was their shared "boyfriend," for lack of better term. and neymar, who was surprisingly receptive to the idea, had agreed without much hesitation. though it wasn't expected that a peculiar air of awkwardness would be lingering in the space between them, the tension thick and noticeable, but still; neither breathes a word as they instead watch intently as rafinha strides back and forth across the expanse of vivid green grass. 

being the more mature one, which could be argued honestly, the blond hesitantly clears his throat. azure hues never once abandon the television, however, in fear of missing any tiny detail of the gloriously tanned brazilian: "when i planned this, i sort of had in mind that we could talk or something. you know, try to be as normal as possible. not, well—not _this_ ," emphasizes the blond, who's gaze finally tears away from the television.

marc shifts upon the cushion, the sound of the material of his jeans scratching against the plush material, tucking one of his legs beneath him. of course he still glances back and forth between the television because, honestly, this was an opportunity that should be celebrated and never forgotten. it wasn't everyday that someone like rafael could adorn the cherished armband, commanding the team and encouraging them to victory.

and, if he was being completely truthful, he found rafael even more appealing knowing that he possessed the title of captain. the title suited him well, especially with the younger's domineering attitude, always being the one to call the shots with little to no rebuttal from the blond.

"what were you expecting?" ponders the brunet after a considerate moment of terse silence, propping his elbow upon the armrest, allowing his eyes to slant toward the blond. "thought we were gonna be drinking beers and talking about how awesome of a boyfriend you are. or—or how all the attention revolves around you and you never—... forget it."

temporarily distracted and honestly drowning in bewilderment, marc shifts once more so he faces the elder directly. for a moment he fiddles absently with his thumbs, gaze locked on the cushion between them, before he inhales deeply then releases an outstretched sigh. "i really want this, _us_ , to work out but it won't unless you stop being so selfish," wince.

"selfish?" cue the scoff that emanates from the brunet, eyes rolling involuntarily at the accusation. "you wanna talk about selfish? eu não posso acreditar que você acabou de dizer isso.." murmurs neymar in an agitated tone, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes clenching tightly shut.

marc sits there quietly, so quietly that the only sound in the room is the heavy breathing from the brazilian; he seems keen on having another temper tantrum, like he tends to have when things don't go his way. it's childish, infuriatingly so, but he deals with it because of rafinha. that was their common ground; it all revolved around broad grins, constant laughter, and the all-around sunshine that seems to linger whenever he's around.

not having thought of how the latter felt, however, all marc can do is nod solemnly to himself. ever since word had gotten out that neymar had harbored feelings for rafael as well, things had suddenly become tense between them. by the time the information had spread throughout the team, rapid and like a wildfire, it had been too late. the blond had managed to collect all of his bearings and had already successfully asked rafinha out, much to neymar's bitter chagrin.

but if simply understanding and attempting to comprehend exactly how neymar felt would possibly assist the labored situation, then so be it. marc was grateful that the game was currently recording, especially on a big day like today, but there was no way that the two would bring this conversation up again so it was best to tackle it now.

garnering enough courage to break the endless silence, the blond finally cracks: "so tell me. i never thought i was being selfish before and you never said anything, so i didn't know. so just tell me how you feel and i can fix it."

fuming and angry, neymar just stares at the blond, fists clenched tightly. "you're always with him, i never get any alone time. and when we are alone, it's always about you, everything's about you. this isn't what i wanted, i didn't want to share rafa.. i love him, like you do, but he doesn't love me—could never love me, and it's all because of you," harshly spits the brazilian, burying the heel of his palms into his eyes, attempting to fight the pin-prick of tears at the back of his eyes.

"i've known him longer, too, and we even got matching tattoos. we did all these things together, but it doesn't matter when you're here." whines neymar. "it's hard sometimes, sharing him. meu deus, it's hard even being mad at you about it. you're just so goddamn smiley and positive all the time."

another momentary lapse of silence, common when it's just the two of them, begins. marc, uncertain of how to deal with a pain-stricken neymar, shifts his gaze to the television once more. he notes the score, seeing that both teams are tied, and releases a small sigh at the result. not that he has long to process the score, and who made them, because he was abruptly pushed down onto the cushions.

a startled yelp emanates from deep with marc's throat, lashes fluttering as he stares up into darkened, hazel eyes. "just so goddamn perfect," murmurs the brazilian as he reaches for the younger's wrists, pinning them easily above his head. 

"what are you—..?"

words die on his lips, however, as a warm mouth captures his in a searing kiss. it's unlike anything he's ever felt before; lips, slightly chapped yet moist, melding against his own and attempting to set a bruising rhythm. it's nothing like kissing rafael, which was a natural movement of lips, tongues intertwining in a gentle caress, with teeth nibbling occasionally at a bottom lip.

it was scorching hot.

like all of the frustration that had welled within the brunet has finally seeped out into the very kiss. the blond could practically taste it on his tongue as he struggles to maintain the pace that the elder has set, managing to capture neymar's upper lip between his own, tongue gliding along the sensitive skin there. he earns a rewarding grunt from the brazilian, who settles more comfortably upon his lap, the beginnings of a bulge forming within his shorts.

marc, who's wrists are still pinned above his head, attempts to free himself; he has the overwhelming urge to grip onto those hips that are moving in slow circles upon his lap or—or tangle his nimble fingers in the spiral of curls upon his head. anything, something, as long as it was apart of neymar. seeming to get the gist of the blond's desires, neymar graciously releases his wrists, only for them to travel beneath the material of marc's skin-tight shirt.

"should be illegal," snickers the brazilian into the kiss, tongue gliding along the roof of his mouth, tantalizingly slow and marc thinks that that should be too. the blond makes a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat, to which the brunet replies: "you wearing this tight shirt, showing off every inch of you."

moist lips, reddened and bruised, attach rapidly to the fair skin of marc's neck to offer the expanse lavish open-mouthed kiss. the blond, used to being the dominant one, keens beneath the administrations and raises his hips forward in an attempt at gaining friction. never once does the blond ask for it though, having too much pride to do so; more like afraid of opening his mouth because he wasn't sure words would come out.

"tão bonita e suave," hums the brazilian against his skin, teeth sinking without warning into his flesh.

the german sharply gasps at the action, body arching inward toward the gratifying bite, hands grasping at the back of neymar's shirt and tugging. usually at this stage with rafael, the two would already be more than half bare, but this was new with neymar. crossing new boundaries and territories, and he should have expected it wouldn't have been that easy.

"ah, ah, ah." scolds the brazilian as he begins heartily sucking at one of marc's collar bones, nails inwardly curling into the smooth skin of his lower abdomen. the pain and pleasure surges throughout the blond with such an intensity that he swears that lightning is striking his body. "you can't just do that, _marquinho_." snickers neymar as he utilizes the nickname, "it's rude. you have to ask, do you understand?"

growling in frustration, marc experiences what the latter had earlier. cheeks and every visible part of his body appears to flush in a bright pink, bashful and embarrassed, never having to ask for release from rafael. but when he open his mouth to beg, nothing audible emits, and instead he's swallowing a pathetic whimper that surely would have left the brazilian a chuckling mess.

neymar hums once more as he makes work of the fastenings on the younger's jeans, easily slinking a skilled hand beneath the material. fingers brush along the bulge hidden beneath unbearably tight briefs, offering him a barely there squeeze that leaves marc's pulse thudding deafening loud against his eardrums. the kind of sensation that leaves his whole body pulsing, feeling it from the bottom of his toes to the very top of his head; his body is practically pleading for more, desperate for more of the welcoming warmth of neymar's palm.

"someone's really excited," teases the elder as he strokes him, though the movements of his hand are restricted. he continues like that, reveling in the moans emanating from the younger, until a damp spot registers against the pads of his fingers. "just tell me what you want, marc. you just have to open your mouth, like that, you're doing it now." except marc's mouth is agape because he swears he can't breathe and that all the air and his lungs is vacating him: "if you're not gonna ask, we can stop."

with all the breath remaining within his lungs, the blond manages to splutter: "i want it, fuck, ney.. i need it.."

"simple, huh?" like that the brazilian is shifting upon the cushions to better accommodate the two. "just keeping saying my name like that and i'll give you whatever you want."

all the blond can do is breathlessly nod his head like every fiber of his being depended on it while the latter eagerly works on tugging his jeans down. inch by inch of milky skin is exposed to the cool air of the hotel room, the blond hissing at the chill, shivering involuntarily as his lifts his hips in an attempt to speed up the removal process.

all the while he works on removing his own shirt and tossing it halfheartedly toward the coffee table a little ways away. neymar nonchalantly tosses the jeans to the floor then takes a moment to admire the sight before him; crimson-tinged skin, the way his chest rapidly rises and falls, how thick his cock looks within the confines of his briefs.

neymar licks his lips like a lion about to devour its prey, descending upon the younger once more with another kiss. like the others, this one didn't lack passion either, and the brazilian seems intent on pleasing the blond in every possible way that he could. hands are rubbing up and down the length of his pale thighs, gripping onto them abruptly, tugging on them until their cocks brush through the material and the slightest bit of friction leaves them both panting.

all of a sudden there are sounds emerging from where the door to the hotel room is. both men go deathly quiet, silently cursing the position they're currently in; though neymar finds it slightly arousing. so he ignores whoever is fidgeting with the door and instead captures marc's lips in another fierce kiss, teeth nipping eagerly at his lower lip, pleading desperately for entrance into his hot cavern.

marc obliges hesitantly, too overwhelmed by pleasure to do much else; let alone care about who's at the door. that changes when a whistle sounds and the door gently knocks back against its hinges. a fresh aroma of body wash invades the hotel room as the brunet strolls in, obviously apprehensive to the situation unfolding before his chocolate-colored eyes.

he makes quick work of the door, slamming it shut, then locking it securely behind him. almost instantaneously he locks eyes with neymar, who's russet skin is flushing darkly, eyes glancing from chocolate hues to blown azure and back. "so this is what you do when i'm not around?" snickers the youngest of the trio, strolling casually toward the recliner beside the couch: "by all means, please continue. it was a long game," groans the youngest as he peels off his boots and kicks them away.

marc, bashful and sort of ashamed, shifts so he can meet rafinha's gaze. but all the brazilian does is offer a playful wink, encouraging him with a devious smirk to continue. and neymar, without hesitancy, does just that. finally he works beneath the tight cloth of the briefs to wrap his hand snugly around marc's thick, hard cock and offers it an experimental stroke.

"c'mon, say it." neymar teases once more, hand beginning to pump his cock at a steady rhythm, hazel hues dark and alight with unadulterated desire. he stares into pretty blues, coaxing a reaction out of him, thumb gently brushing along the slit where beads of pre-cum gather.

"ney, fuck.." gasps the blond as he arches into the fist that neymar's hand makes, hips moving in tandem as he works for his release.

rafael watches the exchange intently with a narrowed, sultry-filled gaze. unconsciously he licks his lips as he eases a hand beneath the band of his blue shorts and under the black briefs he adorns. he feels hot, sticky even, but he knows it's not from the game; there was something so sensual about how the two were together, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

whether it was the heavy, half-lidded gaze that marc has as he stares up into neymar's blown pupils or whether it was the sound of labored breathing echoing off the walls. it was the type of sound that was airy, so much so that it almost felt like a caress, his body reacting appropriately as he shivers and increases the less than rhythmic stroking of his cock. 

ivory teeth sink deeply, painfully, into his plump lower lip as he continues to stare. his idle hand joins the one beneath his briefs, snugly cupping his balls, offering them a warm squeeze. rafael gasps sharply, garnering the latter's attention, to which neymar has a renewed sense of vigor when he meets chestnut hues. 

neymar proceeds to place open-mouth kisses down the expanse of marc's body toward his abdomen and finally his cock that bobs against his thigh. one of his hands wraps around him, stroking him once more, before settling near the base. his tongue, red and sinful, darts out to gather the sweet yet bitter tang of marc's cum, moaning at the taste alone as he uses that as motivation to continue on.

"feels good, yeah?" rafael moans out, directing the question to marc, who weakly hums. "meu deus, it looks like it feels amazing.." 

"rafa, fuck.. i can't—i can't, not for long, fuck.."

neymar, silent throughout the exchange, continues to swallow marc's cock down until he feels the tip press against the back of his throat. the flat of his tongue moves along the underside of the younger's cock, caressing him through the sensations, humming around his cock to increase the friction. it has the blond's fingers gripping tightly onto the curls upon neymar's head, tugging as he thrusts his hips forward without abandon.

"that's it, marquinho.. just like that.. wanna see you cum for him, meu amor.. can you do that?" rafael, mouth dry and lips chapped, manages to splutter as he withdraws the hand cupping his balls in favor of gripping tightly onto the arm of the recliner. "gonna—gonna soon, too.."

marc whines low in his throat as he listens to the words spewing from rafinha, decides he can't the pressure building his abdomen anymore, and releases in ivory spurts into the back of neymar's throat. it leaves the brazilian stunned at first, as he attempts to swallow as much of the bitter substance as he can, though it ultimately dribbles from the corners of his mouth.

not that the blond bares witness to the sight, thoroughly spent and eyes clenched tightly shut, fingers still alternating between clenching and releasing neymar's curls. marc felt like jelly, limbs immobile and body lulled into a state of tranquility, though the trail of lightning were neymar's lips graced his skin still surge throughout the entirety of his being; he wasn't certain the surges would ever stop, honestly.

there was something about the sight of cloudy cum trailing down neymar's chin that has the younger brazilian choking on a sob, crying out his pleasure, fist unbearably tight around his cock and he continues to stroke himself through his high. his palm is so tight around his cock that it hurts but he can't stop, cock twitching and abdomen flexing as he comes harder than he thinks he ever has before. 

neymar, however, has yet to gain the clarity of release and rafinha decides to do something about that. upon the couch lays the elder brazilian, hand slipping beneath his own shorts, to stroke his untouched cock. but rafael, ever the gracious lover, rises onto wobbly feet to stumble blindly toward him.

"stop, i can—... lemme." offers the brunet as the elder leans back comfortably upon the couch, sighing in relief at the warmth of rafinha as he straddles his lap. "tão bom para mim," breathless cooed rafael as he steadily rocks his hips, though he's dangerously close to becoming over-sensitized, but it was worth it; _neymar_ was worth it.

the elder buries his face within the crook of rafael's neck, deeply inhaling the scent of musk and the familiar splash of cologne, and he realizes that this— _this_ is what _home_ was. he peppers kisses along the side of his neck while the younger grinds down against his cock, one of his hands slithering beneath their bodies to rapidly stroke him, wrist twisting upon the upstroke.

and it was just right, muses the younger, as he feels hot spurts of cum soak through the layer of briefs and shorts. hot breath fans against the side of his neck, not that he minds all that much. sweet nothings in portuguese are sighed in a mantra, over and over, as if neymar was determined for rafael to remember each and every saccharine word he was saying to him.

beside them, the blond smiles to himself, not breathing a word as he revels in the haze of post-bliss. this was what their relationships was like, thinks the blond, and there was nothing he would do to ever change the unique dynamic; especially if it meant mind-blowing orgasms, and watching two of the most beautiful men on the planet get each other off.

**Author's Note:**

> when in doubt, smut it out.
> 
> ney had so much sexual tension with marc, lawd. 
> 
> as always: lemme know how i did? <3 xx


End file.
